K (ENG)
by KaelatOTP
Summary: It's Christmas. This isn't the first time Mr. Cat, a feline resident of the disreputable suburbs of Broadway, is spending the holiday alone. At least, until some pizza delivery girl frog knocks on his door. Who knows, maybe it will be his last Christmas alone ...
1. Prologue

Ladies and gent's, here comes _**the translation**_ you've been waiting for… _**made by Randomness Unlimited.**_

 _ **Before you start reading :**_ If some of you have requests or questions to ask, please create an account, or PM me at my gmail (which is indicated on my profil) or DeviantArt (MrCatKaelooOTP). Because I can't answer an anonymous review. Also, please name your reviews, so I can recognize you and, well, try to answer you at the beginning of the chapters. Thanks !

 _ **Just a warning to not spread confusion :**_ Samuel and Nicholas are my own version of Mister Cat's brothers. They'll just be mentioned to give him a backstory. I basically wanted to create an older sister for him (who's named Isabel –an OC) but a friend told me that it was a quite bad idea, and she was right. Mr. Cat deserves two rude men, just like him.

Enjoy !

 _K_ by _Cigarettes After Sex_ was not a song to listen alone. The sultry air of the music, the sweet and challenging tone the singer used to address his beloved –the kind of tone you would use after a candlelight dinner with your wife, highlighting what remains of romanticism in the room after putting away the used cutlery. The two lovers would sit side by side on their shared couch, holding hands and passionately look in the eye while they absentmindedly listen to this music -and at the price of having a smooth melody, _K_ was a song which whispered its words, as if it respected the intimacy needed by its listeners at the time it was played.

And if you didn't have a lover with whom you could listen to this honey-like composition, it may happen that it could create one for you, otherwise you wouldn't be able to have the pleasure of feeling that delight.

His front door was just a plain, ordinary metal door, like all the others in the neighborhood. The kind that you close gently with your heel after returning from work; a newspaper tucked under your arm and a hot coffee in your hand –and Mister Cat did this. He lifted his leg, closed the door with his foot, leaving a dusty shoe print on it, and went inside without taking his shoes off. He yawned, revealing two rows of properly aligned, white teeth, and his little nose curled. He expertly flung his coat across the room, and it landed on the coat hanger. He paused a few seconds in the middle of his living room, as if to make sure of something, then shrugged. His brothers were apparently still not home yet. That meant he could tarry around a little longer with his shoes and clothes.

Nicholas had always been overly fussy. Mister Cat had read somewhere that it was an obsessive compulsive disorder where the person could not tolerate dirt and was compelled to clean up all the time, for no particular reason –but he wasn't the type to let things pass without an explanation, especially when they concerned someone with whom he shared his tiny apartment. He sort of knew that this disorder was due to him finding something to fill the hole left by their parents when they disappeared, and he definitely knew, that Nicholas couldn't bear the responsibilities that were passed on to him after the disappearance of their parents forever. He was pushed into the adult working world despite barely grazing the horizon of adulthood, sacrificing himself in place of his two younger brothers. But Nicholas did not mind, because all three of them knew that he was letting them enjoy the last few months of youth (i.e. freedom) they had left before being pushed into this unstable boat that had pushed him to anorexia. This week, Nicholas' boss –actually, bosses, because life was a bitch which needs lots of money– had given him a few days off. Christmas was fast approaching, and even the toughest of bosses understood that every employee –no, every human– needed to spend these meager moments of happiness with their family, before the rat race caught up to them again.

Thus Nicholas decided, this year, to enjoy the festivities away from home, and Mister Cat had not asked him for any justification. His brother certainly wanted to experience the pleasure of leaving this city whose streets he'd run through many times, see some old friends from college in Strasbourg, and, most of all, arrange parties with enough alcohol to help him forget their harsh reality. But he didn't need to explain all these reasons, and Mister Cat did not need to hear them either. And so he left, leaving behind a half-empty closet, a refrigerator filled with leftovers, and a living room that smelled like alcohol.

Mr. Cat rarely entered their home. He spent his weekends slumped in a chair in the bookstore where his second brother, Samuel, worked. If the chair had a mouth, it would have testified to the customary weight of his derriere. He debated with the first visitor about politics and economics, with the fervor of an old man –and this comparison was pretty good in his case, as he was a teenager who had matured too fast.

Despite living together under the same roof, the three brothers seldom exchanged words. When they did, it was to yell orders at each other –"Buy some more beer!", "Fix the faucet!" or "Take out the trash, it's been stinking for three days!". They only found themselves on the same sofa during a football match –but their TV was one of those old models designed for children that turn off automatically after 9:00 pm; so it was unusual for them to watch together. Communication was unfortunately dead in this house. It slowly disappeared after their parents did. Then, of course, after a few years, conflicts began. Several times, they nearly committed fratricide, with the victim usually being Mr. Cat or Samuel.

You could say that these two were like the sun and the moon. They weren't supposed to be in the same place. They never got along. A little glance, a misplaced word, a step too far, and there would be a fight so bad only predators knew the secrets of how it was done. You wouldn't have guessed that they were blood brothers if it wasn't for the similarity of their DNA. Notwithstanding the irony: Nicholas was adopted. If there was even a shred of logic in this family –even if it was in terms of violence–, he would have been the victim of the true brothers, Samuel and Mr. Cat (like in Cinderella) –and not the most mature and respected of the three. But that didn't stop him from occasionally joining Samuel, the brother he felt closer to, in beating up Mr. Cat, who found himself outnumbered.

And little by little, Nicholas started to join in more often, abandoning his role as the rescuer. It could be supposed that these fights which he so enthusiastically participated in helped him get rid of the stress of working all day. Samuel didn't really have a reason. He claimed that it was a punishment for Mr. Cat being the only _unemployed little bastard_ who didn't help to feed the household and pay the bills and taxes, but he really only did it for fun. And the equation re-balanced itself in an unfair manner. It was no longer Mr. Cat against Samuel, with Nicholas coming to the rescue. It was now Mr. Cat against Samuel _and_ Nicholas, and the police (called by the neighbors) who intervened and punished them even more.

Mr. Cat had never felt any affection for his older brothers, but he did hold them to some regard since they helped him live. And slowly, his respect for them vanished, along with his desire to live with these two bullies. But he supposed that he didn't have any other choice. He couldn't sleep outside with all those homeless squirrels who stole people's clothes. So he tried, in the last hope of finding rationality in this family, to consider that it was a give-and-take relationship : they covered his living expenses, and he was their punching bag. Anyway, the world outside was even more harsh and cruel than life in the apartment. Mr. Cat knew that once he stepped out that door, he could be knocked out cold with a beer bottle by homeless squirrels wanting to rob him, or kidnapped by organ traffickers, or at the very least, embark on a cold, misanthropic journey from which he was separated by only one step.

Tonight, it was December 24th. Christmas Eve, the day where families gather around a table decorated with a spotlessly white tablecloth, with various chandeliers illuminating the scene and uncountable dishes. Mr. Cat looked at the wall clock. It was eight o'clock. The image of a traditional family assembled around a huge buffet to share laughter and stereotypical stories formed in his mind. He sighed. Usually, he would have said that Christmas was not ''a'' celebration for families, but ''the'' celebration for the wallets of the managers of commercial companies. But he could not hide his frustration today. For sure, it would have been less if he had been blessed with a family that was "complete", but this was unfortunately not the case –and something as beautiful and magical as Christmas only could be sullied by the words of a guy who secretly envied others.

The sound of the doorbell rang through the apartment, prompting him to turn around as he raised an eyebrow. It couldn't be either of his brothers because they were spending Christmas elsewhere, nor the mailman, because he had no damn packages to receive from anyone. It couldn't be his neighbors, because they were unaware of his existence –and It definitely couldn't be Santa, because he had been anything but good this year –though the prospect of finding a fat bearded man dressed in red at the door seemed ten times more credible than that of finding someone wanting to wish him a merry Christmas. The request to enter was reiterated by the mysterious visitor, and Mr. Cat gently moved towards the door. He sat up suddenly when his hand touched the lock, wondering for a split second if it was a thief who had discreetly followed him home. At this thought, he clenched his fist and began menacingly, then lowered down the handle, unlocking the door. Then he gently pushed forward, causing a squeaking sound that faded after a few seconds. He slowly raised his eyes to the newcomer.

And here, ladies and gentlemen, the disadvantages of not having a peephole on the -

Oh.

– Hello there, sir, Merry Christmas! Is this apartment number five? I'm here with the pizza ! announced a cheerful voice.

He stopped moving and looked at the the face in front of him. Not caring about the species of the animal that owned this gentle lisp, he began to contemplate her face: a large head with round cheeks, and slightly shimmering greenish skin that extended to the mouth, giving way to a milky white –a frog. But the gentle contrast between these different shades, by no means equaled the intensity of what was right in front of him : two eyeballs more red than a Christmas garland. There were other important details which he noticed a few milliseconds later, like the fact that this charming pizza delivery girl was dressed as Mother Christmas –she wore a thick red dress with woolen ends, which covered just part of her thighs and forearms, molding her modest chest. The outfit was finalized by a red hat with a pompom on top of her head, and a pair of white leggings on her slender legs.

The cat leaned against the door, eyeing again this divine entertainment that had him be offered on a silver platter – who said that God did not exist?

And he answered, nonchalantly :

– I don't like pizza.


	2. Christmas Doesn't Require a Family

**TRANSLATION MADE BY : RandomnessUnlimited**

 _ **TotallyNotAnAlien :**_ Thank you darling ! Comments such as yours encourage me to produce more ! And it's the only fanfiction that contains OC haha, I personally hate them too.

 _ **Gabriella :**_ Well, this chapter should make you smile, hehe ! _**Malina Jefferson :**_ Of course, I can't let down the english fans ^^

 _ **Christmas Doesn't Require a Family**_

Kaeloo loved Christmas for two very simple reasons.

First of all, who wouldn't be joyed by the sight of a colorful apartment? Decorating the living room with ornaments of various hues with love and dedication, falling asleep on the couch out of exhaustion, and waking up to see a beautiful display in front of you was something Kaeloo was lucky enough to experience every year. To her, Christmas was more of an excuse to decorate her apartment and have fun with her roommates than a religious festival, and it had become so for them too. The fact that her roommates would certainly call the police if she dared to decorate the apartment on any other day of the year forced her to contain her enthusiasm until Christmas. Her penchant for extravagance, unfortunately, seemed to be split between many people, starting with those with whom she shared her apartment and ending with the people she could see from her window. It was therefore an opportunity to bring more color to her apartment: from the big green Christmas tree embellished with colorful ornaments, to the buffet with exotic dishes including the famous Yule log, to the little red stocking hanging on the corner of the fireplace.

As stressful as all of this might seem to other people, it was the moment Kaeloo waited for at the end of every year. It filled her with a joy that was just as immeasurable as incomprehensible... at least, to her roommates. They were simple-minded and couldn't understand the ins and outs of her relentless preparations for _one single_ evening. Sure, they shared the global joy of Christmas with her –especially the exchange of presents– but not to the point where they sat in front of the chimney until midnight waiting for Santa ! But Kaeloo didn't mind their nonchalance. In fact, she didn't even notice it, because she was too focused on her own happiness and her belief that December 24th was a day where nobody could be sad.

The second reason she loved Christmas was the thought of reunited families and forgotten enmities.

As a delivery girl, Kaeloo had brief insights into the lives of certain people. Every time she knocked on a door, she got a little glimpse into the house which more or less clearly told her what the lives of the people who lived there –her customers– were really like. For example, when she was about to knock on a door, but heard sudden yelling –a married couple yelling at each other, a mom yelling at her kids or a teen yelling at his dad. Every house had a different scenario to offer. She evidently knew that these stories were isolated incidents –she had had the fortune of meeting some very likeable, smiling clients– but they were still very real. Of course, she hadn't come with the expectation that every family she would see would be blissful like the typical model American family. Most of the orders she delivered came from Broadway, a city that was rarely visited by tourists and well-to-do people. It was mostly inhabited by students looking for apartments with low rent, alcoholics, and criminals who wanted to stay far away from the police.

Christmas was invariably a family holiday which allowed friends and family members to fix their conflicts over a convivial feast with joy and laughter, forgetting their problems. The ambiance engendered by the multicolored decorations, the wonderful aromas of all the different dishes spread over the long table, and the conversations at the table over dinner, which could go on until midnight. The taste of wine and champagne could make even the worst of enemies become indifferent to each other. There was the pleasure of forgetting all your fights, holding hands, dancing and forgetting about work, money and taxes, showing the impact that a good mood can have on people –that was the magic of Christmas. Kaeloo secretly hoped that everyone who she met today, friends and strangers, would be happy about this particular occasion.

Maybe she had been wrong, because just by looking at this mysterious stranger, she said to herself that maybe, just maybe, some people weren't as prepared to celebrate Christmas.

– I don't like pizzas.

« Oh », she said, and then she remained quiet, not knowing how to interpret his response. She discreetly ogled him. He was a very ordinary cat, with orange fur that had brown stripes. The sobriety of his clothes –a green sweater and black jeans– and the subtle mix of nonchalance and annoyance on his face suggested to Kaeloo the possibility that he might be a student –and a very busy one too, given the size of the dark circles under his eyes. There was nothing exceptional about him. Kaeloo had met a few cats during her life. The only thing that was abnormal about him was his voice, which was a bit more serious than that of your average student. But Kaeloo quickly remembered that she was just like that, only the inverse –she was a twenty-year old who had a high-pitched, childlike voice.

So he didn't like pizza. But didn't students adore pizza? It may have been a stereotype, but she had often been called by young people, who seemed to be students who didn't have the time or knowledge to make food for themselves –and Kaeloo understood them, being herself a student.

She finally took her eyes off of him and sighed. Whether he was being sarcastic or sincere, she decided to answer him:

– I suppose I have the wrong address, then. Thank –

– Are you sure you haven't been tricked?

She raised an eyebrow at this question which seemed a bit too much, but she forced herself to keep her smile and her kind tone of voice.

– Tr-Tricked? Why?

– Well, do you know many people who would order a pizza on Christmas Eve?

She didn't know how to respond. At the moment, it seemed as though this young man was right. Even she had found the prospect of someone ordering a pizza on Christmas Eve to be a bit bizarre –on Christmas, people savored home-cooked meals, turkey and gingerbread. People ordering pizza was an occurrence which happened rarely, if ever. Even those who lived alone usually left their lonely apartments and spent the holiday with their families. She had planned on taking the day off today, so that she could decorate her apartment and enjoy the holiday with her roommates, but this mysterious customer, who was probably really a trickster, had ruined her plans. And now she found herself at the door of a rather talkative stranger, searching for an un-findable customer in a creepy old building. Perfect, she though sarcastically, What a great Christmas!

– Not really, I admit, but there are people who live alone and don't know how to prepare proper meals, so they order... pizza, she repeated, stunned.

– And that's it?

– Excuse me?

– Can't they just visit their families like everyone else instead of ordering a pizza? Anyway, everyone has taken the day off, and you're out here working instead of celebrating Christmas with your family. You're just as weird as your customers !

 _The nerve of this guy!_

– You talk a lot, sir, but allow me to point out the silence inside your apartment, and your appearance that tells me that you're most likely a student who normally spends Christmas alone. And who loves pizza, of course.

Bam. Now it was Mr. Cat's turn to frown. He was intrigued by the perspicacity of this delivery girl. She had more or less figured out his real situation, except a few details which wouldn't jump at you on first sight. So the second adjective he'd use to describe her was "interesting". The first, of course, was "cute".

– As for me, I have a family who's waiting for me, she said, with a sincere smile. I hope you have one too, so that you can enjoy the holiday properly without ruining it for other people. Now, good eveni-

– And what do people without families do?

– Huh? I don't know. They... spend it with... friends...? She said, slightly tilting her head to the left.

– And what about people without friends? Persisted the cat, a carnivorous smile forming on his lips.

"Just another weirdo," she said to herself as she rolled her eyes. "Weirdo" wasn't a word she normally used. It was a term which had entered her vernacular thanks to her young roommate, who used it very often. She was about to reply with something like "I don't know, what would that have to de with me?" but immediately, he continued :

– They celebrate it alone, he said, answering his own question. Are you celebrating it alone, or are there people waiting for you?

– I already told you, I have a family waiting for me, she said with more insistence, hoping that he would get the subliminal message:

 _You're preventing me from reaching them, so if you could close your door already..._

– A family, huh?

– Yes, a family.

Kaeloo watched as the stranger's face was enveloped by an emotion which she identified as sadness. As though to help her deduce it further, he lowered his eyes to the ground for a few seconds. An uncomfortable silence ensued. Kaeloo didn't know why, but she felt a sudden pressure in her heart, and an almost irrepressible desire to say something sweet and comforting to him. She stared at him a second time. He didn't seem to be the type to feel sorry for. On the contrary, his posture and apparent tiredness gave off an aura of nonchalance which was dissuasive of good intentions. He looked... tired, exasperated, like someone who thought he'd reached the finish line but hadn't. But everyone was like that; everyone ran after the things they needed in life, and some people didn't reach a high enough speed.

A second ephemeral glow shone in the stranger's red eyes, which he had raised to meet her gaze, and Kaeloo couldn't stop herself from talking.

– In fact, I lied a little... I don't really have a family.

He crossed his arms and his eyebrows relaxed a little. Kaeloo took this as an encouragement.

– I'm spending Christmas with my roommates. Their names are…

It was now her turn to look at the ground. She asked herself if this information was necessary. _Hell, no._

– In short, we're friends, but I consider them as my family. It's been a year since we started living together, and it's our second Christmas together... they don't have families either. So, you understand that...

She needed to bring this mundane story about her life to a conclusion, but how could she when she didn't even know how she wanted it to end?

Truthfully, she wasn't too convinced by her own words. In Kaeloo's eyes, Christmas had always inevitably been a family holiday. There could be no exceptions. However, at this moment, she began to realize the ridiculous falsehood of her perception. She had never really thought about orphans, or people who had been separated from their families. Sure, she knew they existed, and she thought about them almost every day, but never when it came to Christmas –she forgot about them, or rejected the topic from her conversations, like a bad memory. In fact, believing that the only people who could enjoy Christmas were the ones blessed with families, and blocking out other people, seemed discriminatory. The proof: she was denying it right in front of this person, who didn't appear to have anyone to celebrate it with. She had to correct her view of things, right here and now.

– Christmas isn't just for families, it's... well, it is traditionally a family-based holiday, she said, to withdraw her opinion, But...

 _But?_ She exhaled. She couldn't bring herself to deny a truth which had been inculcated to her from a young age in just a few seconds. So she said what she could:

– It's for everyone.

And "everyone" included all the people who didn't have friends or family. It could qualify as an answer to the cat's earlier questions.

– So, I don't know if you're really alone or not, but you should enjoy this holiday, sir... It only comes once a year.

She lifted her gaze to meet his in order to accentuate the impact of her words and regain her confidence, and was surprised to see him looking at her –or rather, contemplating her. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her, as though he was waiting for the moment when she'd look at him –and something about this silent wait made her stomach tingle pleasantly. A few seconds of silence passed as they continued to stare at each other, and Mr. Cat felt a shiver run down his spine at the devotion in the frog's look.

The cats who he normally saw were very simple and not very expressive, just like him. Body language and eye contact were absent from their conversations; they said exactly what they were going to do, without implying anything in any way. The only emotions which they openly showed were annoyance, boredom and indifference. In addition, living with people as lazy and violent as his brothers only worsened his perception. He couldn't see anything on their faces other than hatred and sadism, and the only thing they ever communicated to him were sordid promises that he would wind up unconscious on the couch after a severe beating. And as negativity was the only thing which he had experienced in life, he had ended up convincing himself that he was a burden on everyone else, and that he was incapable of making anyone feel anything other than indifference or outright hatred. It would be better if he just disappeared, or settled for being around people who were naturally negative, like him.

So meeting a frog who was so enthusiastic and expressive at his door was the last thing he'd expected. She had a face which looked like a palette of colors –one where every word spoken would cause a different color to glow, showing the emotion which she felt. And he could only be destabilized, if not embarrassed, because he couldn't show the same expressiveness. So he tried, at least, to seem amused, nonchalant and cool. He put on his usual mask.

But that felt all the more impossible, because of the two bright red eyes which were eyeing him up and down with a very familiar kindness and understanding. He didn't understand how someone could be so affable with a stranger. Was this how she behaved with all her customers? Was she always like this? These not-very-courteous but urgent questions popped up in the cat's head, and he already knew the answer: evidently, yes. It was surely in her nature. She was treating him this way because that's the way she was. That was all. It certainly wasn't because she actually liked him, a cat oozing with negativity, that she was being so nice.

– You must be on Santa's nice list, he said, continuing to use a half-nonchalant half-mocking tone.

His teasing smile had returned within a second. Kaeloo frowned for a moment.

– Not to upset you, of course, he said to stop her from being upset, even though every fiber in his being wanted to bother her.

 _Here he goes again._

– Huh? Uh, why... why do you say that? She asked as she bit her lower lip, hesitating between bewilderment and indignation.

– You're nice.

Kaeloo blushed a little. Nice? Oh, yes, she was, and she knew it –in all modesty. She had always tried to present a good image of herself to the people around her, and hearing someone affirm that she was nice made her feel very proud, especially if it was a stranger. But coming from this cat, it sounded different.

His words were sincere, but at the same time, they seemed...

– Not just anyone would talk all about their life to the first person they saw, after all.

…terribly cynical.

Of course, he had to continue acting the way he did before. The frog's blush disappeared immediately.

– I beg your pardon? I did that to console you, and this is how you thank me?! She asked, outraged.

– What do you mean, console me? I didn't ask you to do it ! He said, looking as though he didn't understand.

– When you talked about families...

Mr. Cat barely managed to stop himself from gnashing his teeth.

– Yes?

– You looked like something was bothering you, as though...

Her voice slowly became quieter, and she lowered her gaze, seemingly making some rapid and embarrassing reflections. She couldn't say what she was about to, even if it was to defend herself. She didn't know anything about his life, and she couldn't just jump to hasty conclusions and bother him. Maybe the apartment was quiet because whoever lived with him went out to buy something. That didn't mean he was an orphan, or single.

– As though I didn't have a family?

The sound of his serious voice, now much firmer, snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up at him. This time, he was't looking back at her. He had turned his gaze to her left, and was now staring hard at the door.

– I have a family. They're spending Christmas elsewhere, that's all.

– Okay...

What else could she say?

A gentle warmth on her forearm reminded Kaeloo that she still hadn't delivered the pizza. As she wondered why she hadn't, she remembered that she still hadn't found the customer. "Good grief," she thought to herself. Not because she'd wanted to stay a while longer with this stranger, but because her work day still wasn't over, and she was exhausted already.

– Now you're the one who looks upset. What's the matter with you?

She wanted to tell him that there was no problem, that he wouldn't be helping her, and that he had caused her to be late, but her talkativeness overwhelmed her as usual :

– I don't know the address of the person who ordered this pizza. The address I was given was yours, but you told me you don't like pizza, so –

– I know the address you're looking for, he said with a mysterious smile.

– Really?! reaplied the frog hastily, before quickly calming down. Can you please tell me?

– So it seems like number 5? (She nodded, and he continued.) There's only one apartment number 5 here. It's on the second floor.

– Thank you, she said, with a half-smile. For once, you've actually been helpful.

He rolled his eyes and closed the door, not finding anything else to add. Even if she was fleeing like a coward, she had the right to give him a scathing reply from the corner of a cold, empty hallway, just like he had teased her at first. However, before the door closed, he heard a final "Merry Christmas" murmured from outside. And that made him smile.

Kaeloo ran through the hallway - or you could call it a balcony, since the stairs were on the outside - of this floor until she arrived at the doorway. She glanced at the wall near near the last step of the staircase, wanting to know what floor she was on at the moment and - wait, what? She was already on the second floor? She blinked her eyes and stared harder at the partially effaced number painted in black on the wall. Even if half of it was gone, she could still clearly make out that it was a 2. Maybe she had the wrong door. Or the wrong building.

She groaned, trying not to swear (though swearing was something she rarely ever did) and held the pizza box in one hand. She used her other hand to retrieve a folded piece of paper which she had kept inside her boot leg. This may have seemed impractical and rather strange, but she had told herself that there was no need to bring her usual bag with her, just a piece of paper with the address written on it, in case she forgot it. She held it against her dress and smoothed it out to remove any creases, and read it clearly. "Building no. 59, Smileyway Street".

She sighed in relief. Thank God she wasn't in the wrong building, or on the wrong floor - she would never have had the strength to look elsewhere. She crumpled the paper and threw it into the trashcan near the elevator. There was no doubt about it - she was in the right building and on the right floor. That could only mean one thing - she had gone to the wrong door. She turned away from the staircase, an intrigued pout on her innocent face, and went back down the hallway. She stopped at the first door and saw the number 1 clearly written on it. She continued to walk, consciously reading the number on each door: 2, 3, 4...

5! Her foot collided with the wall at the end of the hallway, startling her and snapping her out of her puerile concentration. She sighed, lifted her head up again and noted with relief that she had found the right - wait. Something was wrong. Wasn't this plain black metal door the same one she had found herself standing at earlier? The door of the residence of that annoying cat?

She didn't understand anything anymore. Either he'd made a mistake when he was telling her the address, or... he'd deliberately made her go on a wild goose chase when he was the one who'd really ordered the pizza?! Her hand, seemingly having a mind of its own, raised itself and knocked three times on the door. Immediately, the handle turned and the door opened, causing her to jump back. At the door stood the same annoying cat, only with a different outfit. He was now wearing gray sweatpants with black drawstrings and a plain blue tee shirt. Surprisingly, Kaeloo thought to herself that he looked more mature, like a married man who was ready to sit on the couch with a newspaper and a coffee -

– If you're done ogling me, may I ask what you're doing at my doorstep again?

The spirals on her cheeks turned very red upon hearing his words, while she remained silent with a frozen expression. Mr. Cat silently appreciated the contrasting spectacle which was Kaeloo's face. Two red eyes, scarlet cheeks and a white mouth, all on green skin? Mother Nature was so unfair - she made frogs shimmer with a variety of beautiful colors, while cats like him were left with three banal shades, orange, brown and white - that someone should have called a lawyer!

– I - she said, shaking her head in a lively manner, eliciting a sarcastic scowl from the man in front of her. You - you told me that the address was the fourth door to the left and I realized that... that it was your apartment.

The cat's cheeks puffed up, and he let out a laugh which could no longer contain itself. It didn't take long for Kaeloo to realize that he'd been messing with her.

– Frankly, this isn't funny at all, she said in a firm tone which did nothing to calm the cat down. I think you're a little too old to be childishly pranking people like this.

He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, inhaled deeply, though it didn't make up for all the breath he'd lost from laughing so hard.

– Relax, froggy, a little laugh never hurt anyone, especially on Christmas Eve.

 _Froggy._ Now she had a nickname. Great, she groaned to herself. What next? A friendly slap on the back and an invitation to dinner?

– I would like you to be more polite, she said these words in a forcible manner because it was an order, not a request.

– Why? he asked, his sly smile no longer hidden.

– Because we're strangers, and your effrontery has a price.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned against the door, taking ease, and spoke:

– Well, if that was what all that was about... My name is Mr. Cat. Now all you have to do is give me your name, and we know each other!

– W-What?! Do you really think I'm a child, that you can trick me like that?! She yelled in a rather loud voice, looking offended.

– Hmm, just a little ? He said carefully, as though it was something that he shouldn't say out loud. Then, he continued to speak in a clearer voice: Okay, give me the pizza and we're done.

– Huh? But you weren't the one who ordered it! I can't give it to you !

– Who told you that I wasn't the one who ordered it ?

– Well - you told me that you didn't like pizza, and then you made me walk in circles and come back to your door... and you made fun of me - that is, you _stupidly_ made fun of me, she added, with more authority. That means –

That didn't mean anything. Or maybe it did. It did mean something: He was messing around with her from the beginning.

He took advantage of her silence to regain control of the conversation.

– It means that the pizza belongs to me! Come on, fly-nibbler, stop confusing yourself and give me the box.

– Don't call me fly-nibbler!

– Oh? What would you like me to call you then? Froggy? Tadpole?

– Ma'am.

Mr. Cat felt exasperation building up inside him. He was expecting something more suggestive or challenging, but he had to satisfy "ma'am":

– Ma'am? Are you serious?

– Absolutely.

– And why would I do that now that I have all these great nicknames for you?

– Because –

 _You're getting pulled into his little game, stop it!_ The little voice in her head had never been so right about anything before. The cat was failing to hide his smile. His lips were opening up, revealing his pointed fangs. If only it was a kind or cute smile. It was a mocking rictus - and a teasing one too, but Kaeloo told herself she was probably misinterpreting it.

– Pff, I don't care. For the third and final time, good evening.

She was about to turn around and leave, but the feline had other ideas. As though a curse that had been placed on her, she heard the same serious voice calling her, but with more fervor:

– Wait up, froggy - I mean, ma'am!

He sneered discreetly after saying that last word, while he quickly ran up to her and caught her by the hand. A rapid, yet surprising, shock ran through both of their bodies, but it didn't stay in either one. _What is he doing, why is he holding me back?_ Kaeloo raised an eyebrow, feeling herself inexplicably blush - the cat's hand was incredibly warm. But that didn't affect the firmness of his grip in anyway. She tried to move forward, but the more she tried to escape, the tighter he held on. She shouted, more troubled than offended at this point:

– HEY! What are you doing?! LET GO OF –

– Hey, yell a bit less louder, will you? I don't want people thinking I'm trying to sequester you!

– Then let me go! She said, trying to shake off his hand with a frightened expression on her face.

– Not until you give me that pizza! I'm the one who ordered it, remember?!

– Well, I'll give it to you after you let me go!

She stopped struggling, and he stopped reflecting. He stared into her eyes for a few seconds, silently warning her not to try to flee, and let go of her hand. She tried to avoid making any gestures which could start a chase. She simply patted her hand on her dress and on her shoulders, dusting herself off as though she had just gotten up after falling down on the ground, and shot him a dirty glare.

– How tactless...

– Are you talking to me?

– Of course! You can't just grab a young woman by the hand like that!

– Well, pizza delivery people aren't supposed to refuse to give their customers the pizza they ordered either!

– Where's the proof that you're the one who ordered it?!

The tension had just mounted a notch. Mr. Cat resolved to use a more reasonable tone as he glanced over the frog's shoulder to make sure that nobody had heard them.

– I can show you my phone's call history if you want. But I'm warning you, I'm going to tell your boss about your behavior, tadpole. Given everything that just happened, I'm not sure you'll be getting your next paycheck...

– What?! Are you threatening me? But you're the one who kept provoking me, and made me go on that whole wild goose chase! Do you think you're funny? And I told you to call me ma'am!

– I'll stop threatening you if you shut up and come back to my house so I can get the phone and pay you for the pizza ! So stop your games and come on, we're going to freeze out here!

– I'm not going anywhere until you apologize. No!

She crossed her free arm across her chest and turned her back to him with impunity like a little kid. Everything had a price –and if he wanted to keep this source of entertainment any longer than he already had, he'd have to follow certain rules.

– Okay, if this can put an end to our little conflict... Sorry. Can you give me my pizza now? He asked, in an annoyed tone.

– Hmm... no, I'm not going to accept that apology, she replied in a voice which suggested that she was about to smile.

Mr. Cat sighed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to keep calm. She was beginning to tire him out. And besides, it was cold. The chilly Christmas wind was blowing directly on his fur, and the lack of walls wasn't helping much.

Kaeloo looked to her left, turning her gaze towards the building in front of her. Mr. Cat opened his eyes, ready to stop her and continue the conversation, but he stood still as soon as he saw her. She was standing with her arms at her sides, now turned totally towards the balcony, beholding the view which the second floor had to offer. The thing that intrigued Mr. Cat was her face. It showed immeasurable surprise mixed with growing joy. Little by little, the joy took over, and her previously sulking features were now opening up. The smile on her green and white face was so big that the corners of her mouth touched the spirals on her cheeks. Her ruby-red eyes glowed with pure joy.

– Mr. Cat...

His name resonated in his ears like honey. It was the first time in his life that he could remember someone pronouncing his name so softly and sweetly - to the extent that he didn't even recognize it at first. She had murmured it in a sigh that was so deep, yet so quiet, that it was like she was holding thin, fragile ice between her vocal chords. Unsurprisingly, he repeated it silently to himself, seemingly in a silent prayer, as though he was trying to hang on to this new feeling the frog had made him feel for the past few seconds - but without the lisp.

But no. There was nothing. It wouldn't work. When he said it himself, his name felt just as annoying as it did when his brothers said it when beating him up at home, or when people at the bookstore made fun of him. The effect that the frog had on him was magical. And when he said "magical", he didn't mean all those inane adjectives you see in romance novels – "beautiful", "fantastic" or any of those– but something more like "ephemeral", or "imperceptible". So, telling himself that he'd forgotten how she'd said his name, he ignored the rapid beating of his heart to see what she wanted to show him.

She immediately turned her head towards him, enveloping him in a beautiful wide-eyed gaze which valorized the brilliance of her red eyes and the candor of the glow in them. Mr. Cat felt his heart skip a few beats. He stiffened up and instinctively raised his arms in front of his torso, as though his body was preparing itself to fight an invisible danger. And maybe it was true. His mind was letting in an emotion which was so foreign to him that his brain couldn't recognize it, so his own body was defying him. Only his heart was allowing in this explosive cocktail of strangely pleasant emotions that this delivery girl was making him feel. This exchange of roles was actually pretty funny. He was playing a game of cat-and-mouse with her, and now she had caught him by the tail. He had tried to destabilize her, and now he's the destabilized one.

 _What is she doing to me?_

There was no way of defending himself. She was staring at him with such a big bright smile that he wondered if he'd unconsciously pulled a star out of the sky and put it in her hand.

– It's snowing!

Her lisping voice resonated in his ears again like the melody of a child laughing, and he turned his head to look at it. Little white snowflakes were falling slowly around them, covering every surface in a thin white blanket. The wind slowly stopped blowing, allowing Mr. Cat's fur to warm up again. During this sweet hibernal break, he asked himself a question which was just as deep as it was ridiculous : if rain could be compared to the sky _crying,_ what could snow be compared to? Well, it was nothing. The sky was just like the people around him; indechiperable, omnipresent, and eternally silent.

Maybe the frog was right. Christmas wasn't necessarily a family holiday; it was something to be shared, but not necessarily with friends or family. Mr. Cat felt a desire to pour himself a glass of wine, pull out a chair and sit next to the metal bars of the balcony and have a toast with the sky. One of them would drink wine, and the other would cough up snow.

– This is amazing! Tee-hee!

After all, Christmas could be spent with anyone. Even with the snowy sky and a pizza girl. And for the first time ever, Mr. Cat smiled for a reason other than the desire to provoking someone. In the end, maybe he was worthy to bring positivity to someone.

– Yeah, it's snowing... he said, slowly.

He leaned gently on the balcony's rails, taken by a state of serenity which he'd rarely felt before.

– Kaeloo.

He frowned and turned towards her. The frog stared at him fixedly. Looking at the green frog, her red dress and the white snow, Mr. Cat decided that he'd found his new favorite colors.

Their eyes met, and their mouths gave way to a silence that allowed them to briefly contemplate each other. Mr. cat no longer felt the freezing cold, and Kaeloo forgot the extreme heat of the pizza she was holding. They took the time to reflect, with no tension or words to distract them. The cold acted as an anesthetic on both of their nervous systems, preenting them from feeling any sudden emotions.

She held onto the railing with one hand, her back upright and her chin raised. His arms were crossed over the metal, his back slouched and his head lowered.

And both of them thought to themselves that the other wasn't so bad after all.

– My name is Kaeloo. Nice to meet you.

– Mr. Cat.

– I know...

And two laughs that were just as different in tone as they were in intensity broke the cold air.


End file.
